


oh, it’s saturday night

by doespenguinsisgay



Category: Hockey RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Fluff, M/M, auston plays football
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-10
Updated: 2018-09-10
Packaged: 2019-07-10 10:40:55
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 871
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15947684
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/doespenguinsisgay/pseuds/doespenguinsisgay
Summary: mitch loves saturday nights almost as much as he loves his own thirty four(or, mitch loves supporting auston at his games)





	oh, it’s saturday night

**Author's Note:**

> psa if you or anyone you know is mentioned above, please click away. it’ll be better for everyone involved !!
> 
> hey y’all so idrk what this is, it was mainly bc i had an aesthetic in mind and wanted to work on description and such, so why not make a short fic out of it!
> 
> there really isn’t any plot, just mitchy nd aus bein grossly in love and also aus plays football bc i’ve been watching a lot of college football. hopefully you can still enjoy!
> 
> thanks for reading!
> 
> title from say amen(saturday night) - panic! at the disco

Mitch loves Saturday nights.

 

Nothing can compare to the roar of the crowd swaddling him, a sea of people that he’s treading in to stay afloat, to keep his head above the rest to get a peek at the manufacture of painted green turf, spelling out their team name proud and bold. To catch a glimpse of those royal blue jerseys, stretched out across wide, grey pads, the brown and black scuffs down the sides of skintight white football pants.

 

The wind whips at his skin, leaving warm red in its place, down the bridge of his nose, the apples of his cheeks. He can barely feel it, though, the buzzing under his skin kept pressed to his chest as he’s bundled up in a coarse school hoodie. He’s in a howling match with the sky, cheering fiercely, loud enough to make his lungs scream back at him.

 

Mitch sings along to the marching band and stomps his feet against heavy metal bleachers, while he keeps his eyes fleeting between the center of the field and the sidelines, tracking his own number thirty four.

 

The feeling in the air is electric, adrenaline and alcohol coursing through his veins, pooling at his fingertips as he sways with the crowd, a tide of blue and white, ebbing and flowing in its own way. Mitch thrives in it, pouring his passion into the chants he echoes back, as he watches the clock tick down.

 

Before the game officially ends, in the last few seconds, Mitch rises from his spot, tugging his toque lower over his ears as he weaves through the seats, eyes set on the railing at the bottom of the stands. His shoes clank against the metal as he moves, crashing forward with each step, but the noise is stifled by the crowd. He leaves behind a second home as he abandons the stands for the sidelines.

 

The teams are clearing out, equipment people following in their footsteps, but a few players linger to greet their loved ones. Mitch cranes his neck to search for his own thirty four.

 

The turf crunches under the soles of his shoes as he breaks into a run across the field, going as fast as his legs can carry him. Auston is anticipating the blow, when Mitch crashes into him, enough to knock the wind out of the both of them. He grips Auston’s shoulders with small, gloved hands, smiling hard enough that he knows his cheeks would ache if he could feel them.

 

Auston drops his helmet in favor of enveloping Mitch in a warm hug, one hand stationary at the small of his back, the other tracing the  _ Matthews _ stretched across Mitch’s shoulder blades. Nevermind what he had said before,  _ this  _ is Mitch’s second home. When they pull back, Mitch lets his hands frame Auston’s face, his skin, washed out by the bright, fluorescent lights, pale in contrast to the black of Mitch’s gloves. He looks stunning, dark eyes rested and happy.

 

“Congrats on that last rush, babe, what a beauty!” Mitch praises, bouncing on his toes, enough to make his hands shake against Auston’s jaw. He preens a little, at the weight of Mitch’s words, hands tightening around the 190 pounds of energy and pride against the front of him.

 

“Thanks, Mitchy.” He says softly through a chuckle, leaning down to press his face into Mitch’s neck, warm against the icy skin. Mitch yelps at the sudden warmth, but leans into the touch. They don’t stay like that for very long, and when Auston pulls back, the eye black across his cheeks is smudged. Mitch shivers, stepping closer to tilt his chin up and slot their lips together, in a warm, slow kiss.

 

The thinning crowd around them doesn’t fade from the backs of either of their minds, so they keep it modest and short, but it’s sweet enough that Mitch is swallowing sugar as the kiss breaks. He smiles up at Auston, brushing their noses together.

 

“Proud of you, cap.” He mumbles, finally stepping away, only to thread their gloved fingers together. “Come on, we have to celebrate a win like that.” Mitch insists, pulling Auston towards the locker room. He waits willingly in the cold, ducking into the hallway to escape the burning wind, as he watches his boy disappear behind the heavy door. He doesn’t mind giving him his space, understanding the sanctity of the locker room, reserved only for those who fought for the win. He knows soon enough, he’ll be tucked up under Auston’s arm for the rest of the night.

 

Or maybe, he’ll be curled up in his lap, on the couch of some frat house as the walls shake to the bass of the speakers. Maybe Auston will nose at his jaw, whisper to him as Mitch people watches, eyes scanning the waves of sweaty, drunk college students. Many-a-nights has this been their routine, Auston eventually guiding Mitch’s face back to his own, smiling sweetly at him over a red Solo cup.

 

Mitch loves Saturday nights, almost as much as he loves his own thirty four. They’re young and in love and living in the now, and he’s not sure that anything could compare to that.

**Author's Note:**

> i have a tumblr! come yell with me abt hockey boys at: [starryandersen](https://starryandersen.tumblr.com)


End file.
